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Friday, 18 October 2013

This is a quick edit of a trip to Iceland. Trekking wise this trip was everything we had hoped for and occasionally a bit more than we bargained for.

We walked from Halaskjol to Alftavatn then followed the Laugavegur Hiking Trail to Landmannalaugar where we spent a few days hill bagging. Next we headed up to the Skaftafell area to climb a few hills there.

There is a lot of information crammed into this guide, which
runs to some 352 pages, covering 12 areas, 49 day walks and 10 multi-day treks.
All in all something like 100 days worth of walking.

I used the book to
help with planning for my recent trip to Iceland and found the descriptions to
be concise, clear and accurate for the areas I have visited. The photography is
good and the illustrations and maps are clear and easy to
understand.

Walking guidebooks of course are not just about the walks and
I found the historical, geological and wildlife information both useful and
informative. The historical timeline was particularly interesting and really
does highlight just how young Iceland as a country is.

For impoverished
outdoor folk like me, information on public transport and things like budget
accommodation and food were useful. I also found the section listing further
sources of web based information handy during the planning stages

The
section on river crossings is definitely also worth a read if you lack
experience in this area, however you do need to recognise the limitations of the
information provided.

When it comes to using guidebooks I am a
definitely a visual person and in particular I do like to use overview maps with
the different walking areas marked on them. Paddy helpfully does this however
one element I certainly feel could be improved is the labelling on the overview
map itself (Pages 10 &11.

There are a lot of numbered walks in the
guide and at times I ended up flicking back and forth when I confused area 3
with trek 3, or trek 3 with stage 3.

For folk like me placing the
relevant page numbers for each section in the actual section box of the overview
map would have been ideal. For example in the box of " Area 2 - Fjallabak and
Thorsmork". By adding "Pages 94 -133" in the box itself I could then
have flicked straight to the start of that chapter without hunting. As I say it
's a personal thing and not a major issue.

The usual warning about the
accuracy of route descriptions as they may change is an important point to
remember and you really do need to take this seriously and recognise that the
landscape is in constant flux, with paths and even tarns appearing and
disappearing. For example on the Lagavegur trail there were several short
sections that certainly varied on the route we took a couple of years ago. With
this in mind the guide alone is not a substitute for a map. That said even the
maps end up out of date quite quickly as we found out when the two large tarns
the trail was supposed to pass between had actually disappeared.

You may
of course think no one would simply rely on a guidebook, but in Iceland I was
stopped by two guys and asked if the lake we were looking at was Alftavatn and
how long would it take them to get there. All they had was some pages
photocopied from a guidebook.

Talking of navigation. I do feel that the
maps/walks descriptions would have benefited from having some key GPS
information linked to them. For example hut locations. Nowadays the GPS does
seem to be the norm for a lot of people, even if it is only as a backup. Perhaps
this is one for consideration in a future edition?

As I said before
guidebooks are not just about the walks and one minor inaccuracy I did note was
the statement "Alcohol of any strength has to be bought from state liquor
stores, rather than supermarkets". I found it possible to purchase cans of beer
of up to 2.8% strength in several small supermarkets, including the mountain
Mall bus at Landmannalaugar. Whether this rule has changed or some supermarkets
are now licensed I cannot say, but if you enjoy a celebratory (if rather weak)
beer or two at the end a long trek it's worth
knowing.

Conclusion

· At £17.95 the guide is on the
expensive side.

· Lacks GPS information.

· The overview map
would benefit from having the page numbers in the area boxes to make finding
sections quicker and easier.

· Photography is good and map illustrations
are clear and accurate

· Descriptions are concise and easy to follow and
were certainly accurate enough for the walks I did.

· There is some
interesting background information relating to history, wildlife and geology.
Getting around on a budget without a car, accommodation and personal safety were
also useful sections.

· To help with planning there is an appendix
containing useful web addresses

Friday, 11 October 2013

Autumn starts in the north east of Scotland and over two to three weeks works it
way to the southwest of England. By the time the trees of Cornwall are
bejewelled with gold, those in northeastern Scotland are shedding them like
tears.

I always feel autumn is our shortest
season and somehow between the vagaries of the weather, the patchy nature of
local conditions and the need to be in the right place at the right time, I
always try to manage at least a few days photography in our native woodlands. If
the light is good I photograph the colours and the wider landscape, if poor I
focus on the smaller details, if lucky I even get to photograph wildlife.

When George Eliot (Mary-Anne Evans) wrote:

“Delicious
autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the
earth seeking the successive autumns.”

I always like to think
she was actually sitting in a woodland glade looking up at golden leaves
trembling in the breeze when she wrote it.

Earlier this week sitting on
a rock, camera cast aside, such were my idle thoughts. Photography done for the
day, coffee in hand, I tried to find a form of words to describe the sights,
sounds and smells of the first flush of autumn. The only trouble was I became
preoccupied by the very things I was seeking to describe - the colour of leaves
as the sun broke through, the sound of the river sliding by like silk at my
feet, even the damp earthy smell of fallen leaves - all of them distractions
which thankfully conspired against too much thinking. In the end just two words,
ephemeral and spiritual, seemed the most appropriate.

Catrake Force and the River Swale

Wain Wath Force

The changing
seasons also mark the start of another autumnal event and across the UK some
woodlands, valleys and high mountain glens will reverberate with the roar of
deer and the clash of antler as the annual rut begins.

Keep your eyes open you never know who is watching
you.

Autumn really is a truly transient time and the next few weeks
will be the last opportunity to experience the beauty of our woodlands before
the trees return to their skeletal forms and winter winds roar through their
tops.

Wednesday, 2 October 2013

Before turning in last night I noticed a heavy
mist forming across the far side of the lake, so when I woke to a muffled world
and a wet tent, I knew before I stuck my head out of the door the clag was down

Fortunately by the time we had grabbed something to eat and taken down
the still wet tents the cloud had rolled back across the lake revealing a blue
sky. It looked like we were in for another hot day.

Today we would be going against the
flow of trekkers as we headed to the Hoskuldsskali hut, a bleak place of
volcanic ash set below a small col.

After a short while we had an easy
stream crossing on a rickety plank bridge that sagged into the water as we
crossed, or at least it did when I stood on it.

This was followed by a gentle uphill
stroll to the base of Jokultungur. Next it was a bit of a steep pull onto the
top via a loose scree covered path. Going up here my sciatica began to cause
problems. Having had three separate slipped discs and surgery to remove one of
the discs years ago I knew this was a warning I was overdoing it. One of the
problems with a heavy pack on steep loose ground is that I tend to lean forward
and for me this means that scar tissue begins to limit blood flow to the nerves.
After lengthening my poles to help adjust my posture and tightening the waist
belt on my rucksack to make sure it sat on my hips fully, I moved cautiously on.

Despite feeling a bit sorry for myself the views opened up with every
step and soon we could see down to last nights camp at Alftavantn and way beyond
to the Myrdasjokull and Eyjafjallajökull glaciers.

Last nights camp was next to the
lake

Since the eruption of the Eyjafjallajökull volcano in 2010
people have been waiting for the much bigger Katla volcano to wake up. This sits
under several hundred meters of ice and will be spectacular when it does so.
Historically Katla has always erupted shortly after Eyjafjallajökull, but so far
has only rumbled quietly under its icy blanket, sending out the odd flash flood
to remind folk it's there.

Part way up I stopped to chat to a couple of
guys coming down who asked if the big lake down there was Alftavatn and how long
had it taken us to get here. I was surprised to see they were navigating with a
few pages copied from a guidebook.

Once on top I dosed myself with
painkillers and anti-inflammatory tablets and had a bit of a moan. The others,
well used to my bleating, ignored me and went on about their various aches,
pains and blisters instead.

Setting off again it was relatively easy
going with much more gentle ups and downs until we came to some steam vents.
This was followed by a series of ridges and hollows to where the trail
eventually makes its way along the top of a cliff giving extensive views all the
way to the hut. This was declared a good spot for lunch. As everyone was
suffering from transient deafness when it came to placing someone in frame to
give a sense of scale, I made do with a passer by who just happened to sit down
for a break.

The hut sits just below the dip on the
horizon

The view behind. These hills incidentally could be
bagged as day walks from the Hoskuldsskali hut

Sometimes I find it
hard to get my head around the actual colours these mountains are made up of.
Some were made up of layer upon layer of pastel greens, blues and lighter
browns. These contrasted sharply with the dark browns, jet-black ash and the
white of snowfields.

The last part of the walk to the
camping area next to the hut was a fairly miserable experience for me. Hot,
footsore and with serious backache the last couple of kilometres really seemed
to drag. This was made worse by the fact the snow bridges where the path went
were clearly too weak and we had to detour steeply up and down the sides of
several gullies in order to reach the hut. They were really only minor detours
but frustrating given how close we were.

You were never quite sure just how thick the snow
was underfoot

Moira went off to pay the warden while I downed yet
more painkillers and fretted about whether I would be ok to keep going. Once the
tents were up we had some food and a couple of brews and chilled until around
8.30pm.

Graham's Vango Force Ten Nitro 200+ Loads of room and
only around 1.8kg

Despite being a bit of a bleak place of obsidian
boulders and ash blackened snow patches the views were magnificent. Eventually
G&S headed to their tent, but we hung around for an hour hoping to catch a
sunset.

Volcanic glass (Obsidian) boulders lay all
around

Despite looking promising a couple of times we weren't treated
to a colourful sky and as a grey veil of high cloud moved in and the temperature
fell we also headed for the comfort of our sleeping bags.

No sunset, but just being here was
enough

Day 4 Hoskuldsskali Hut to
Landmannalaugar
Despite being woken several times during the night with
backache I did not feel too bad. In fact in contrast to yesterday afternoon, I
was fair skipping along once I got going. Mind you I only had to manage 12k
today and most of that was gentle.

Taking one last look at the
Hoskuldsskali Mountain Hut and the view beyond to the the Myrdasjokull icecap we
were soon crossing the snowfields of the Sooull plateaux area. In 2011 when we
came this way it was cold and windy, but today under a warm sun with far
reaching views, it really was an absolute pleasure.

Yet again we were treated to some
wonderful rock colouration where volcanic deposits had leached out of the earth,
staining the ground turquoise and giving the landscape a strangely industrial
appearance.

After a while we reached the Storihver
geothermal area and left the path to have a look at the hot springs. These
turquoise pools appear to be a wonderful place to soak away a few aches and
pains, but as you get closer and the heat and sulphurous smell hits, you soon
realise you would cook like a lobster in seconds. These are certainly not the
friendly welcoming pools experienced in Landmannalaugar, instead these springs
combine beauty with menace, as they hiss sulphurous gas, gurgle angrily and spit
boiling water.

Moving on, the trail initially cut
across the grain of the land and we were forced up and down a series of short
steep ravines with broad ridge like tops. In the heat of the sun they could have
become hard work, but fortunately they petered out in a small plateaux that
marked a change from an east west watershed to a northerly one in which the
streams drained towards Landmannalaugar. In this area there was no vegetation to
speak of and I was again struck by how quickly the landscape of Iceland can go
from lush green to completely barren.

The going was now easy as we made
our way along series of ridges that were now aligned with our direction of
travel. Ahead lay the colourful and still active Stratovolcano Brennisteinsalda
with its distinctive finger like pinnacle of lava. When it erupted in
around 1480 it produced the lava wall that sits above the campsite at
Landmannalaugar, some forty five minutes walk away. It also provides some nice
hot springs for the weary trekker to relax and soak away a few aches and
pains.

Brennisteinsalda on the left. The dark mountain on
the right is Blahnuker

Looking back to Brennisteinsalda. Its name means
"Sulphur Wave" in English

Once past Brennisteinsalda the trail takes
you towards the mountain of Blahnuker, the blackened ash slopes of which
dominate the view east.

Sandra heading towards Blahnuker

Half
an hour later we were among the obsidian boulders and tortured lava shapes of
Brennisteinsalda's old lava field and in meeting increasing numbers of day
trippers we knew the campsite would soon come into view.

Landmannalaugar from the lava field

The
campsite here is not the nicest of places to be as it's pretty crowded and
noisy, but as wild camping is discouraged in the Fjallabak nature reserve there
is little choice. Fortunately the setting makes up for this and it does have a
small shop, toilets, showers and hot springs to bathe in. The plan was to spend
a couple of days here peak bagging before heading back to Reykjavik, hiring a
car and heading up to Skaftafell to explore that area a little.

About David

This blog is to share some of my outdoor experiences from the dark side of the lens.
On here you will find a mix of images from my personal and commercial image collections, as well as articles, gear reviews, news and general outdoor related content. My intention is simply to highlight the beauty and diversity of the natural world and to attempt to portray a little of what it means to me.
If you would like to see more of my work please visit my photography website: http://www.bluestoneimages.com/